Nix. (Den of Mercenaries Book 3)(10)

Was he helping her?

“It looks to me, Lawrence, as though I’m doing you a favor. Because please understand, she is your problem, and yet I’m offering to pay to fix it—a far better deal than I usually offer.”

The vein in Lawrence’s forehead made an appearance as he ground his teeth. “Pick another—”

“I’ll have her, if it’s all the same to you.”

But it wasn’t all the same to him, and it was clear that he wanted to argue further, but after a heavy moment of silence, Lawrence finally answered.

“Seven-fifty.”

“Your father will die this evening,” Uilleam said with a glance down at his watch. “Would you like to join him in hell? Continue to waste my time and I’ll have someone put a bullet in your head.”

It was clear who held the power in the room.

“Considering her … age,” Lawrence said grudgingly, “I can go no lower than five-hundred thousand. She would earn—”

“It’s quite time for you to stop speaking,” Uilleam cut in before he could finish. “I’m tired of hearing your voice. That’s acceptable. Now, for the rest.”

Though Lawrence was red in the face, he didn’t hesitate before reaching into his pocket and taking out his phone. Two minutes later, he was showing Uilleam the screen.

“We’re done here.”

Those words sounded innocent enough, at least until the sharp crack of gunfire sounded in the main house, the screams of the people inside just as loud.

Uilleam stood, helping her to her feet. “It was a pleasure doing business with you, Lawrence. Let’s hope we never cross paths again.”

Luna wasn’t given a choice as the Kingmaker made to leave, the fingers he had wrapped around her arm forcing her to follow at a rapid pace she could hardly keep up with.

People were running, fleeing from the gunfire that was still going on, but Uilleam didn’t run, nor did he particularly rush.

Like he wasn’t affected by the chaos around him.

Who the hell had she been sold to?





Chapter Three





If she thought she would get answers from the Kingmaker once they left the Kendall estate, Luna was mistaken.

Not only did he not speak another word to her besides which way to walk and where to sit, he didn’t pay very much attention to her at all, hardly even looking in her direction.

She didn’t even get the chance to try and find Cat in the chaos before she was pushed into the back of a waiting car, two thumps on the roof sounding before they were starting off.

Over the span of what couldn’t have been more than an hour, Luna was once again being uprooted from everything she knew, and taken somewhere—with someone—she didn’t. Everything she cared for, though there wasn’t much at all in this place, was left behind.

It was silly to miss old textbooks, but she wished she could have taken them with her—though she couldn’t be sure she would get to use them wherever she was going.

Only once they arrived at a private airfield that was warded off by barbed wire did Luna dare ask her first question. Had it not been for the men—and these men looked more like soldiers—standing alert from the front end of the town car to the jet waiting on the tarmac, she would have tried to run.

But one look at the rifles they were holding, she knew she wouldn’t be faster than a bullet.

“Where are we going?”

“Is that really the question you want to ask?” He asked, not unkindly, but rather curiously—as though he genuinely wanted to know the answer.

There were plenty, a number of which she probably hadn’t thought of yet, but she didn’t think he would answer the question she really wanted answered: What did he plan on doing with her?

Instead, she nodded, figuring this inquiry was one he might be wiling to answer.

“New York,” Uilleam said as he gestured for her to go ahead of him onto the jet, pausing a moment to speak with one of his soldiers.

Ariana, Luna’s sister, had gone on a trip to New York. She’d described the lights and tall buildings, the food and the blending of cultures. Luna had always wanted to visit.

She could count on one hand the number of times she had been on a plane, but none of those were anything like this one. While it might have been half the size of a traditional airplane, the interior made it feel far more spacious.

There weren’t traditional seats on the jet—though a few were strategically placed by windows—majority of the floor was open, with a couch in a U-shape facing a television that lowered from a hidden panel in the ceiling.

Luna stood awkwardly in the middle of the floor, not sure what to do. She wasn’t even sure how to act. Was she to assume that he wanted her ready for whatever he wanted to do to her?

Her gaze was drawn to a rather large bed in the rear of the plane, the monstrosity making a lump form in her throat.

“There’ll be none of that,” Uilleam said as he appeared at her side, reading her expression. Almost absently, his gaze moved beyond the bed as he mumbled, “My heart is not my own.”

She wasn’t sure what to make of him.

“Please,” he said when she didn’t offer a response. “Have a seat.”

Going to where he pointed, she sunk down onto the very end of the sectional, folding her hands in her lap as she waited as he did the same. A part of her knew she should have been more afraid than she was, but she didn’t think he could do anything worse than what Lawrence had done for the last few years.